A Time to Talk


Posted on 16th Feb 2014 07:03 pm by admin

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.

-Robert Frost (1874-1963)

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Big, fat Santa bounded through my halls;

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<

KOSHISH KARENGE HAM

KOSHISH KARENGE  HAM KI TUMKO TANHA 

 NAA HONE DE.... TERI ISS DIL KI 

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It's strange the things you remember

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Though there's nothing I can do.

You've hurt my f

As Is Life

It's strange the things you remember

And the things you seem to forget.

It's a ja

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